


you can be the sun when it shines in the mornin'

by coupe_de_foudre



Series: social media!au [2]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Chance Meetings, Childhood Friends, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23532202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coupe_de_foudre/pseuds/coupe_de_foudre
Summary: Not that he could care less about that right now. Not when there’s a quiet, “Fuck.” from the other side of the table, and familiar brown eyes are on his in an instant. Not when he swears he can feel his heart drop out of his ass.
Relationships: Jay De L'Eau/Bill Leyden
Series: social media!au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694755
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	you can be the sun when it shines in the mornin'

**Author's Note:**

> I have officially become deleyden trash and this fic simply proves this fact. This is quite possibly one of the rarest ships I've been a part of and I'm literally craving content so bad, so if you have any or you just wanna talk about these soft dorks pls come over to my [Tumblr](https://a-beautiful-struggle-of-life.tumblr.com/)!!
> 
> This is also the first fic of my social media!au (which I'm hella obsessed with atm). Expect more instalments eventually!

“Sledge, man, what are you doing?” Bill asked, not for the first time, as he's dragged from the comfort of his dorm and down to the overcrowded canteen. He’s getting serious high-school vibes from the whole thing and he hates it.

Give him an empty field or quiet bench and he’ll happily eat his lunch in peace.

“You’ve gotta stop being so anti-social!” Oswalt chips in from his side, ever-present smile on his face. Bill just glares at him.

“I’m _not_ anti-social,” he grumbles, “I talk to you guys, don’t I?”

Sledge’s eye roll doesn’t need to be seen to be known. “That doesn’t count. I’m your roommate, you kind of _have_ to talk to me.”

“Yeah, but nobody put a gun to my head and made me talk to Bobby, here!” Bill smirked, slinging his free arm around Oswalt's shoulders despite the height difference.

Oswalt chuckled, dipping slightly to make the position more comfortable for the both of them. “Doesn’t count. I came over to you during class. I bet if I hadn’t you'd be stuck with Gene here.”

“Nah, I've got other friends!”

“Not here, though.” Sledge points out.

Bill sulks, he can’t help it, scowling with a pout to match. If he could, he’d be crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m going to try-outs on Saturday.”

Oswalt ruffles his hair and Bill groans. “And you’re gonna make the team! But just in case, it can’t hurt to meet new people.”

Bill scoffs but decidedly drops it. He wasn’t adverse to people; he was going to get himself out there eventually but they’re only a month into the semester. He reckons he’s allowed some time to adjust to this whole college thing before being forced to expand his social group. 

Whatever, though. Sledge and Oswalt are stubborn fucks when they set their minds to something.

The moment they step into the canteen, Bill can feel a headache coming on. It’s unnecessarily loud, the stale smell of half-decent food and too many bodies cramped together lingering in the air. He must wrinkle his nose because Sledge pats his shoulder (having let go of his wrist, finally) and sends him a sympathetic smile.

“You get used to it after a while.”

“Smells like my Gran's place.” Bill mutters, smirking when it draws a laugh from his friends. Then he's being pulled through the masses of students to a table that’s only half-occupied. 

At their arrival, the three boys huddled around a phone look up. 

The one in the middle, holding the phone, is olive skinned with wild curls and he sends Sledge a leering grin. Sledge doesn’t appear weary like he has been so many times around strange guys, simply sending a light smile back to the boy before sliding into one of the free seats. Oswalt follows suit.

“Bill, is it?” the guy to the right asks, shooting a warm smile at him. Now, Bill isn’t usually known to be shy so when he completely disregards this guy's attempt at a welcome it’s guaranteed to earn him some odd looks from his friends.

Not that he could care less about that right now. Not when there’s a quiet, “Fuck.” from the other side of the table, and familiar brown eyes are on his in an instant. Not when he swears he can feel his heart drop out of his ass.

He’s gone before anyone can question it. Legs carrying him out of that damn canteen faster than what would be considered safe in such a crowded environment. He doesn’t care, though. He needs some fucking fresh air.

He's vaguely aware of someone shouting his name and the sounds of fast approaching footsteps but he doesn’t slow down until he’s a good distance away from the building, autumn breeze knocking him out of his trance. There's a picnic bench and Bill leans over it, bracing himself up by his hands and not caring if he gets splinters. 

His heart is racing, body shaking, and he feels like he’s just run a marathon. 

He just-...he just needs some time out.

“Bill!” 

“Fuck off.” He snaps, not lifting his head. He really doesn’t want to deal with this right now.

“Bill,” the voice is closer now and, before he knows it, there’s a warm hand on his back. “Bill, _please_.”

Bill squeezes his eyes shut. His hands clench into fists against the table. He’s not angry. There’s just so many fucking emotions rushing through him right now and he can't grab hold of one of them long enough to deal with it.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

The silence that follows drags on for so long that, if it wasn’t for the hand still on his back, he’d be sure that he was alone again. Alas, that was not the case and he’s suddenly being pulled from the bench and over to the field by the courtyard. He’s shoved against a tree, just out of sight for most people passing by but close enough that Bill could still make a run for it if he wanted.

He doesn’t.

The other boy doesn’t speak for what feels like forever and all Bill can do, now that he’s forced to look him face on and at such a close proximity, is take in the details of his face. 

His hair has darkened, more an ashy blonde than the golden haired boy he used to know. His lips are the perfect bow, thin but smiling, parted just slightly exactly as they always did. He remembers long rants after picture day about that. It’s his eyes though, ultimately, that get Bill. Because, on the one hand, they’re exactly the same as they always were; hazel under the sun's glow, bright and full of life and something about them pulls at Bill's chest. But then, somehow, they also feel like looking at a stranger. There’s a sadness there, a heaviness that Bill doesn’t recognise, because no ordinary eleven year-old boy has experienced anything that could bring on such a look.

It’s heart-breaking. Only because Bill hadn’t been there to fix it – whatever _it_ is.

Raising a shaky hand, Bill presses his palm to the boy’s cheek, smiling when the other closes his eyes momentarily and leans into the touch. He’s speaking before he can think about what he’s going to say, voice barely above a hoarse whisper, “Jay. Fuck, Jay, I missed you so much. I-”

A finger is pressed to his lips, Jay shushing him with a watery smile. “I know, Bill. Me too.”

Bill isn’t even sure what he was going to say so he doesn’t have a clue how Jay can know, but he doesn’t question it. Instead, it’s like a huge weight is suddenly lifted from his chest, and he collapses into the body in front of him with a choked sob – fisting at Jay’s shirt and pulling him closer. 

He’s not a crier. If any of his friends saw him now he’d never hear the end of it. But this was Jay. _His_ Jay.

So, instead of laughing and pushing him away, Jay sighs and wraps his arms tight around him. He’s grown in the years that they’ve been apart; now Jay is a good few inches taller than him but it’s oddly comforting to be pressed into his chest, his chin resting on his head. He knows he’s probably ruined Jay's shirt, tears soaking the hem around his neck, but he can’t find it in him to care.

“Fuck, I didn’t think I’d get to see you again.” Jay's mumbling above him, chest vibrating as he speaks. “School sucked without you. It just wasn’t the same, y'know?” He did know. He knew exactly what Jay meant because he'd had the same damn thoughts for the good first half of high-school. Sure, he settled in eventually and made new friends, but it wasn’t ever the same. Jay had been different.

He waits a minute or two (who's counting anyway?) before speaking again, twisting his face into the crook of Jay's neck so that he can be heard better. “Didn’t miss you blowing shit up in Chemistry.”

Jay’s laugh is worth the stupid comment, and Bill can’t help himself when he raising his head properly to see the smile spread across Jay's face – eyes crinkled and teeth on display. A nudge to his ribs grabs his attention again as Jay smirks. “Trust you to forget how you were responsible for half of those.”

“Yeah, half. The other half was all you, baby.” Bill sings, smiling wider than he has in ages. He throws his arms around Jay’s neck suddenly and laughs. “I really fucking missed you.”

Jay chuckles, but returns the hug nonetheless. “You too.” 

“Right,” he says, pulling away at last. “We should head back before Sledge sends out a search party of something.” Jay raises an eyebrow at that but doesn’t question him, nodding and falling into step beside him as they walk back towards the canteen. 

Bill’s about to get a grilling, for sure. But when he sneaks a look back to Jay and finds him already smiling down at him, he finds that he can’t really care that much. If anything, he owes Sledge an apology and a huge box of chocolates as a thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all liked it? I'm sorry if it's ooc, I'm not really up to scratch with these two but I tried my best. 
> 
> Stay safe, guys <3


End file.
